


A Christmas Carol

by HeyCreena



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Annie are you ok?, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Public Sex, Sebastian is lonely and misses his boyfriend, Suicidal series, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16846576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyCreena/pseuds/HeyCreena
Summary: In which Sebastian Moran is lonely on Christmas eve, even though he's not alone.Jim is supposed to be dead, but...is he?Please do NOT read this if you suffer from mental health problems or sucidal thoughts.(Even though there is some sort of happy end).Part of the 'Suicidal Series'.





	A Christmas Carol

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, years ago als a one-shot, which turned into a small series.  
> If someone's interested in the other parts - just let me know.
> 
> As I'm not a native speaker my english is wobbly every now and then. Please keep that in mind, I'm trying my best here.
> 
>  
> 
> Be kind and Happy Christmas,
> 
> HeyCreena

 

 

**~ * ~  A Christmas carol ~ * ~  
**

 

 

Irritated Sebastian opened  his eyes, as the annoying melody of the doorbell rang through his new flat. He was suddenly wide awake.

 

After a short trip to Warsaw he was glad to be back in a city he knew, and the people he could assess.

He sighed and rose from the sofa as the bell rang again. Whoever was at the door obviously had enough nerves and time and was not leaving.

For a moment he hesitated before reaching for his weapon, which lay on the sideboard in the hallway.

Nobody had  his address, except for the pizza boy, who appeared every now and then and left with an exceptional tip. He had lost the desire to cook for himself months ago.

With a quick movement he opened the door and dropped the weapon at the same moment as he realized who was standing in front of him.

"What the hell-" he blinked, irritated, as he recognized the young woman in front of him. "What are you doing here?" he asked briskly,

as he casually put the gun on the table next to him, still standing in the doorframe.

 

"I ... wanted to see you." Annie replied with a faint smile. She had managed to surprise him - more or less.

She watched Sebastian's movement with an observant glance as he put the gun down. "Okay, okay…I followed you the last time, I admit it." she said and rolled her eyes.

"There's no name on your doorbell... I asked the old lady from the first floor, she did not know it either." She walked up to him with a mischievous smile.

"A phantom ... I guess you're not the favorite neighbor." she murmured and slowly touched his chest in an affectionate gesture.

"Clever bitch," Sebastian thought to himself, with a grin that didn’t reach  his eyes. “Actually…it’s none of your business.” he said through gritted teeth

and grabbed her hand that had just started to wander down south. "What do you want?" He repeated his previous question again and slowly raised his eyebrows.

"Well ... what could a woman...want from a man? At this time? At this day?" she murmured, absently biting her lip. “It's Christmas, Sebastian." she then explained after interpreting his confused look, “Oh God, you really forgot it?”

Sebastian snorted and frowned slightly. He had not realized it. He had come back to his flat right after  the plane touched ground and didn’t noticed the brightly lit windows and crowds on the pavement in front of his apartment.

"I don’t celebrate Christmas." he growled and imagined a pitiful look in her eyes, when he briefly looked back into the apartment.

"You can’t come in." he added and crossed his arms in front of him.

 

Since Jim's death, he had set himself a rule - mainly for any complications that could happen, if he broke it. He wouldn’t allow the intimacy of sleeping with another person in a bed.

"Alright." she gave back in her blunt manner and  pulled him on the belt into the hallway, as she leaned toward his ear.

"If you prefer to go out for our little-“ with a suggestive smile Annie let one hand wander down again.

For a moment Sebastian hesitated before slowly pulling her hand away.  "Five Minutes. “ he said quietly, as his animal primal instincts took over, and he disappeared in the flat to get his keys and jacket.

Frowning, he raised his eyes as a monotone flash in the hallway caught his attention and  
he stepped to the large window front of the living room. "Wonderful." Sebastian muttered dryly, as he realized that the neighbors had attached a brightly colored string of lights, right across his living room window.

He walked back to the front door, only to shut it a few moments later and watched  the young woman in front of him.

“I still have lots of work to do. It will not cuddle, I will not kiss you and you won’t get any presents...There is no such thing as love. You want sex, I want sex. End of  
story. Afterwards you can ... drive home and party like normal people." he said coldly as he shoved her down the stairs. Any place around the corner of the street would do.

 

* * *

 

Annoyed Sebastian shut the door behind him and let himself slide down the wood, as a deep sigh left his lips.

Absently he buried his face in his hands and stared at the floor for a long moment, as the last few minutes flashed like a movie in front of his inner eye. He could not switch the pictures that appeared in his mind off.

They had just made it a couple of meters into the entryway next to the men's clothing store before he pulled her into the grimly lit alleyway.  It had not been love, just sex. He didn’t care about her. His mind had said goodbye while she had repeatedly sighed his name.

He first met Annie months ago, when he picked up a new delivery of weapons and explosives, when Jim was still alive. He didn’t even looked at her, back then.

Outside, in the dimly lit street, he had not looked at her either, as he pushed into her. But when his eyes absently wandered  to the designer suits behind the shop window, something happened  deep inside of him. Too many memories overwhelmed him in that brief moment when he saw the expensive pieces of clothing.

Sebastian struggled to get up from his position in front of the door, threw his jacket over the wardrobe, put the phone and keys down and dragged himself into the kitchen.

One whiskey would not suffice, and in his experience, the equation of drinking alcohol till he would die, did not really work out.

He opened the fridge with a bitter smile and took a deep breath, as he saw the syrup bottles in the top compartment. For some reason he took them from Jims house, but never really opened his own fridge again, except for some ice cubes every now and then.

Now they were beaming at him, laughing at him sneeringly, and the feeling that he had done something wrong slowly rose up in him.

With a loud growl, he slammed the door shut again and leaned his head against it as tears appeared in his eyes and he shivered.

The whiskey was in the living room, what the fuck was he looking for in the kitchen?

Shaking his head, he went back to the living room and grabbed a pretty full glass of Whiskey with an absent look, before settling down on the sofa in the dim light.

Sebastian did not know how long he had sat there, the glass still untouched. But at some point he noticed the colorful lights, the neighbor's decoration. It was lighting up the living room in a regular pattern.

Red.  Green.  White.  Red.  Green.  White.  Red.  Green.  White.  Red.  Green.  White.

The monotone flashing brought him back from his absentmindedly stare.  Sebastian  put the glass on the coffee table in front of him, lifting his gaze.

The large wooden beam that ran across the room had  initially lured him to take that apartment, after Jims death.

After the first few days, however, he had stopped to do pull-ups on the beam, as with every move more and more wooden splinters appeared in his hands.

He only noticed it, as his fingers began to hurt during a job and he had almost missed his target.

But now the beam radiated with something else. Slowly he got up and stretched himself to touch it with his fingertips.

He took an elegant step to stand on the coffee table and let his gaze wander from the beam to the floor, before pulling his belt out of his pants.

‘Nice way to say goodbye. Whoever finds me will be grateful’ he thought to himself, putting the belt around the beam before pausing.  It would not work like that.

With an energetic leap from the table, he disappeared into the bedroom just to return a moment later, with a second belt, to attach it to the previous one.

Out of habit he pulled himself up; it seemed to hold him and that was the most important thing.

The room was still lit by the glaring Christmas lights, but at this moment, he did not notice them anymore. His fingers were gliding over the leather as he pulled the improvised noose around his neck.

For a moment his thoughts wandered back to the sauces and syrups in the fridge and he thought about leaving a message for the world.  ’Property of James Moriarty ‘

With a bitter smile he closed his eyes as he realized that this title could just as well suit him.

He inhaled slowly and swallowed hard before bracing himself for the final step - and flinched when his phone started to ring with a shrill sound.

Didn’t he turn that damn thing off? Annoyed he rolled his eyes but the ringing did not stop.

After some eternal moments - the ringing became almost aggressive - he pulled the belt from his neck with a low growl and stepped off the coffee table,

which wobbled slightly. The whiskey glass and its content were spread out on the wooden floor, as Sebastian  made his way to the still ringing phone.

 

He almost expected the caller to hang up when he arrived, but it rang again. He picked up the phone.

 

"Yes...?" with an annoyed undertone, he leaned against the wall and absently stroked his neck, but there was no sound from the other side.

 "Hello?" he huffed and shook his head. "Nice Christmas call. …Happy Christmas to you, too, shitface." he growled and raised his eyebrows slowly

as he only heard a soft sigh from the anonymous caller - the connection was interrupted in the next second.

 

Irritated, he looked at the beeping phone for a moment, before hanging up and heading back into the living room.

 

"All good things come in threes, huh?" he murmured to himself, gazing at his belt dangling from the beam , before he pulled it off with a bitter smile and threw it into the corner.

 

The neighbours Christmas decoration still flashed penetratingly into the room as he picked up the whiskey glass and decided to make a Christmas dinner.

 

Maybe today was the right day for French pancakes and Jim’s syrup.

 

* * *

 

 A few kilometers south of London Jim Moriarty let himself slide against the cold wall of his house, which served as a bolt hole.

“Stop it, you idiot. Just… stop it.” he whispered, as tears appeared in his eyes and he pushed the phone away with an exhausted gesture.


End file.
